It’s hard enough to explain why you might really love lifting weights as a hobby – picking things up and putting them down for abstract reasons–and then this kind of thing comes along. Get ready for the most ridiculous gym pump-up anthem released in… well… since the Internet can remember.

Meet “Get Swoll” by an artist called Constantine – or “Big Con” (GET IT) – who was previously unknown, a condition likely soon to be fixed by his video’s rising viral status.

An ode to getting ginormous and being a badass, its premise kinda dies when you consider this: Pro, or would-be-pro, bodybuilders just aren’t really scary. Or badass in the way portrayed in this video. Sure, in the ‘70s and ‘80s, guys like Arnold Schawrzenegger and Lou Ferrigno became bona fide mainstream stars, playing heroes. But that was before bodybuilders reached pure silverback proportions, back when they could still move like actual humans.

This is not what’s going on in this video, a slice of pure internet amazingness – the perfect storm of ego, narcissism, and big imagination.

And I say this with love, as a fan of the bizarre pageantry of bodybuilding and strength sports. But if you know the slightest about the sport, bodybuilders are just not scary. You wouldn’t see one walking down the street and think, “this dude is going to pull out a gun and pull off a gangster heist.” You might think, “This dude might shank me, but only for my chicken and broccoli if he’s in his last weeks of contest preparation.”

“Get Swoll” speaks for itself. It starts out average-ridiculous but really ramps things up around the two-minute mark, where it starts to involve drug money, weapons, and seemingly piles of cocaine.

Or is this supposed to be an inspirational anthem for 98-pound weaklings everywhere, getting sand kicked in their face, as represented by the tiny weightlifting kids here?

The video doesn’t know. Its creator probably doesn’t know.

So enjoy (lyrics and content are pretty NSFW):

IF YOU MUST work out to bodybuilding-specific music–yes, it’s a thing—-there’s one guy at least executing it well: Rob Bailey and the Hustle Standard. Listen if you can appreciate the stale stank of used weight belts (old hot dog water) and the particularly grating thunk of iron dropping on the floor.